Planets and Moons
by Elle-ish
Summary: "In every reality, it's you and me; and I don't know how I didn't see it before." After the final battle with Zarkon, Shiro wakes up in an alternate reality where no one knows or listens to his silly tales about Voltron. How is he supposed to move forward when no one seems to believe him, especially his apparent fiancée, Keith? Meanwhile, Keith is left picking up the pieces.


When Shiro awoke after the battle, it was through bleary eyes and strained muscles. The room was a mix of intangible greys and soft browns that faded together into one. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes. His head fell back into a shapely pillow, well spent after a night of use, and that just seemed- weird?

While Shiro was used to having a mattress and thin blankets on the Castle, this was different. This bed was softer, larger, dipped further into his larger body. The blanket over his currently seared muscle was not thin, but rather quite the opposite. He found himself cocooned within the confines of a large livid blue duvet, a habit he picked up when he was a child and never grew out of.

The room became less blurry when a soft sigh was emitted to his right, a figure snoring softly as it near cuddled the wall. He saw a tuft of black hair move from underneath the sheets, and Shiro felt his heart sink. Oh no.

The figure groaned as it stretched out, turning towards Shiro while he blinked his eyes awake, a small gasp escaping past his lips

Shiro remained completely still, almost hoping that the childrens game of 'if you don't move it wont see you' still applied to his adult life. He was left in disdain when his wishes fell through the cracks.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty," Keith said as he blinked away his sleep sodden eyes with a small smile. He reached for Shiro's cheek and grazed over it with his thumb, so gentle and so sweet. Shiro couldn't grasp any of it. How? When? What?

And then Keith moved forward, placing a light hearted kiss to his lips.

Shiro remained stunned, that drop in his stomach moving further and at a faster speed. He was going to be sick. He didn't speak, not at all comprehending the situation he was in. He was in a bedroom, with Keith, who still looked completely like his Keith, albeit a few years older (maybe? Not really though?). And well, not his Keith, but like, the Keith from his actual life. This- this wasn't his actual life. This felt to domestic, too homely, too normal to feel anything close to familiar for Shiro. He hadn't even been this close to another individual since he left for Kerberos, and that was well over a year ago. What the hell was happening?

Keith moved back, smiling gently. "I know, I know. Don't like morning breath, got it." He joked. Keith parted from the warmed bed sheets and rose onto the floor, stretching out his lithe muscles.

The heat in Shiro's cheeks rose as he watched this Keith rise up. The younger man wore only a pair of crimson briefs that showed off a little more of his thinner body than Shiro would like to be familiar with.

He yawned loudly, touching his fingers to his lips to cover it as thought it were rude. He turned back to Shiro, blinking slowly.

"Oh." He said, and Shiro clenched his fists, grabbing at the pastel sheets underneath his also near naked frame.

Keith bit his lip, visibly worried. "Do you know who I am?"

Shiro nodded his head fervently, silently begging Keith to understand and answer his unasked questions. His breathing picked up. The anxiety in his chest rose and started bubbling up with a sharp pain from his stomach.

Where was he? He was just battling Zarkon in space- and now, he was here? And where was everyone else? Allura, Coran, Lance, Pidge, Hunk? And why the hell was Keith, well… like this?!

Why were they together? Why did Keith kiss him? Shiro wasn't opposed to kissing men, quite the contrary, but Keith? Now?

Just what the hell happened?!

"You're- you're Keith. We've been friends for a long time." He stuttered out, though placing a strong emphasis on the word friends. He shuffled forward, grabbing at his head that sickeningly throbbed against his forehead. He shifted out of his safe cocoon - none too gracefully he would later admit – and his feet landed barefoot on the floor. He placed his elbows, still one human and one metal prosthetic, against his knees.

Well, wasn't Shiro lucky that that hadn't changed?

Keith seemed to relax a little at that, yet his body still remained visibly tense.

"And do you know how you got here?" He asked carefully, his hands open palmed towards Shiro. He walked closely to the bed as though Shiro were a deer caught in the headlights and was about to speed off in the wrong direction if Keith even just moved wrong.

He dropped down to his knees, placing his own warm hands against Shiro's legs, ready to back off or come closer at a moments notice.

"No- no, I don't. I don't remember how I got here."

Keith nodded his head in understanding, as though this was something that happened often.

Was it something that happened often?

"That's okay. What's the last thing you remember?" He probed, trying to get Shiro to talk.

Grey, worrying eyes met kind violet, and Shiro felt himself instantly calm down. He churned at his memory, looking at this Keith, this environment, how relatively ordinary it all was. This Keith, the one on his knees and trying to calm him down wasn't the Keith he was used to up in Space.

But that wasn't to say they were much different. He still acted the same, just placed in a different situation, and Shiro couldn't put his finger on exactly what was different here. This entire place just felt off. It wasn't his. But it was definitely real.

"Uhhm. The garrison, I think I hit my head against the simulator?" He lied, deciding not to say anything about his space travels. He just had that feeling that it'd be the perfectly wrong thing to say right now.

Keith hummed, growing concerned. "Usually it doesn't go that far back." He whispered more too himself than Shiro. He caught Shiro's confused look, and shook the thoughts out of his head with a weak smile. "That's okay, though. How about you go get in the shower, and I'll make us same breakfast. When you're ready, come downstairs and I can explain." He patted Shiro's knee before moving away.

"But, you're toothbrush, if I'm in there, then…"

Keith turned, the weak smile still present. "We have another bathroom for days like this. It'll be okay, Takashi."

Shiro fell forward a little at the use of his actual name. It'd been years since he last heard it.

"Oh, uhm, your shirt drawer is the second top one. We share everything else." Keith explained, before leaving the bedroom with a soft shut of the door. He allowed Shiro some privacy to collect his thoughts.

Shiro didn't move for another ten minutes, instead choosing to sit himself against the bedframe on the floor.

The bedroom was smaller, fitting only the assumedly queen sized bed and dresser full of clothes. Books lined the dresser top, mixed with multiple Astrophysics textbooks, the Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings series, a beginner's guide to cooking, and a large stack of Calvin and Hobbes. Shiro instantly knew Keith had dubbed this portion of books 'Shiro's space' because while Keith enjoyed all these things to a relative degree, Shiro knew he was a not-so-secret lover of the what Shiro referred to as 'old-and-rich -white-men-literature'.

Aka, what Shiro failed to understand and enjoy during his garrison English university classes, while Keith aced every one of their renaissance and modernist literature tests.

Nerd.

Shiro smiled softly at the thought, hazily picking up the Calvin and Hobbes and running his human hand over the well-used spine. He opened it up, and noticed his Mother's signature with a 'Happy 8th Birthday Takashi! Xo' written underneath. It was the exact copy Shiro had had his entire life. But just to double check, he skipped to 86th page, and noticed the crooked tear through half of the paper. He remembered how he cried when Johnathon the bully had ripped up his favourite book, calling him a freak for reading during recess. Shiro sighed and placed the book back in the same empty space he had found it in, and continued to look around the room.

There was a small TV attached to the wall, and streams of lights fell through the slightly opened window. Shiro forced himself up, pulling the ashen coloured curtains closed, the sun too bright this early in the morning and hurting his eyes.

Shiro turned and made way for the bathroom attached to the bedroom, taking Keith's advice and taking a nice, long, hot shower.

Because, damn, if this morning was anything to go by, this was going to be one hell of a day.

Thinking it through in the shower, Shiro came up with a few hypotheses. He narrowed them down to a few of his favourites, since they remained the most realistic given his current situation:

He passed out for a few years and was currently a vegetable. This was all just in his passed out mind. Haggar sent him into an episode of hallucinations after (or during?) his fight with Zarkon. This was just what he was living now and would have to wait it out. This was just a very real dream. And lastly, he suffered brain damage from his head-on impact with Zarkon and ended up like that one girl from 50 First Dates.

Shiro shivered, just somehow feeling like those possibilities weren't quite true.

Shiro made his way down the rugged stairs. He recognized the interior as one of those small town houses just out of town from the garrison, with everything the same and nothing unique. It was a small two-bedroom, which Shiro had discovered during his short walk when was he was trying to calm himself down. The other bedroom was set up with an old desk and a computer. It also, strangely enough, had a well-worn punching bag in the corner. The red mitts were tossed haphazardly on the ground beside the shapely desk.

This place was also eerily quiet, as though there were no roads or anything close to human existence just outside the door. Shiro had a sinking feeling this location was chosen on purpose.

He moved from the stairs and hid himself just around the corner of the kitchen when he heard Keith talking to someone over the phone. Keith was swiftly cooking some scrambled eggs and bacon over a heated frying pan, his hair tied up to keep away from the food.

"Yeah, yeah… No, I'm fine. But just in case it does get worse, I had to let you know. You know how it is." He let out a harsh laugh, one that told Shiro that whatever Keith was talking about was not all that funny. From around the corner and over the sizzling bacon, Shiro could still hear the murmurs of someone speaking on the other line. "Yeah, yeah I agree…. if we don't make it out… y-you will? Thanks again, Lance. I really appreciate it. Fingers crossed though. It doesn't seem too bad today, but… yeah." Keith sighed, moving around the kitchen while he multitasked like pro.

Shiro was just happy that Keith had magically started wearing a black shirt and sweatpants underneath the rather frilly blue apron tied around his chest and waist. Because while Shiro cared for Keith, that was one step they had never taken. Call Shiro a traditionalist, but he had always needed to take the time to develop the trust for that sort of… natural nakedness. Having seen Keith wear next to nothing felt like a breach of privacy he hadn't yet earned, and it didn't aid Shiro with his already guilty and confused mind.

"Okay, same here. Talk to you later… Bye." Keith shrugged the phone off of his shoulder, grabbing it just before it hit the counter top and shut it off.

Colour Shiro impressed.

He took his chance, entering the kitchen.

Keith immediately turned around, noticing Shiro like a hawk eyeing its prey. "Oh hey, I didn't hear the water turn off." He made his way to Shiro with a familiar look, much like the one in the bedroom that morning before the lighthearted kiss. (Shiro was not still thinking about that, thank you very much). Keith quickly stopped himself, seemingly remembering the situation over his instincts. He moved away with a concerned frown, and turned off the stove.

"I just finished the food. I'll grab us some plates so you can just take a seat." He wiped his hands on a dishcloth before he started dishing out the eggs.

Shiro sat down at the circular table in a daze, picking up his knife and fork a little lightheaded. His hands shook, but then Hunk's enthused expression of how sporks will one day rule the Universe entered his mind, and Shiro found himself chuckling at the memory despite himself.

To his right and against the wall were two half-eaten cat dishes with a large bowl of water in the middle.

He was about to question this particular discovery when he turned to see Keith pouring two cups of coffee, and moving to pour the cream. Shiro couldn't stop himself before meekly calling out, "Errr- one cream-"

"And one half sugar. Don't worry, Shiro. I got it." Keith said with a wink.

"Thank… you?"

"Always."

Keith placed the perfectly blended and steaming cup of warm earthly coffee in front of Shiro, to which he then chugged it like a madman. He hadn't realized how different the sludge on the ship was until now. After a while, Shiro had truly forgotten the taste that had essentially held his life together at the garrison, and what he also saw as both his heaven and his hell. Shiro counted himself lucky when he realized that the Castle's 'coffee' had kept him energized, and held the same texture and bitterness as actual coffee. Eventually, Shiro just figured if you lie to yourself enough, the memory of coffee would fade away and the new coffee wouldn't seem so bad. And it had after a while. But Shiro couldn't believe how wrong that lie had been. This coffee was pure, unadulterated heaven.

"Shiro, we have more, slow down! You'll burn your throat!" Keith reprimanded, picking up his fork to pick at his scrambled eggs. Shiro couldn't help but notice how there seemed to be much more food on his own plate than there was on Keith's.

"You need to eat, come on." Keith's eyes were looking down, still stabbing at his eggs like they needed to be punished.

Apparently whatever he had to discuss wasn't something he liked to bring up either. He seemed to detest this predicament just as much a Shiro.

With a tick of his eye, Shiro breathed out, "Wh- what is happening?" He wished he could calm himself, but he couldn't keep that stutter at bay, anxiety still present.

Keith blinked up to him, back down to Shiro's eggs, and then back to Shiro before sighing.

"You're having a bad day, that's what we call them." Keith began to explain.

"A bad day." Shiro repeated, moving the words through his mouth like they were a dry, powdered poison.

Keith nodded, and continued to poke at his eggs.

"It happens sometimes, Shiro. Some days you'll wake up and just forget . Usually it doesn't go as far back, maybe a month or two, but not years." Keith explained slowly, watching Shiro take in the information.

It sounded as though Keith were on auto-pilot, offering Shiro information as though he had given the same speech ever day.

"Sometimes you hallucinate. Sometimes you have episodes where…." Keith shook his head, biting at his lip.

"You've been seeing a doctor, and as of right now, you're okay and this isn't something to worry about. It doesn't happen too often, but I understand if this is scary right now." He watched Shiro with his continued hawk-like stare. "Is there anything else you'd like to know?"

Shiro moved his plate of food away, and Keith winced.

Yeah, Shiro was scared, terrified, but he wasn't about to worry Keith. He took a long breath, pulling in and exhaling out, focusing on the task at hand, and that was relearning everything.

"How did you and I- how did that-"

"How did we get engaged?" Keith prompted, near giggling when Shiro spluttered out his coffee at the word choice.

"You asked me last year, and I obviously said yes. It was romantic and perfect." Keith offered with a small voice, eyes downcast.

"We've been together for three and a half years after you asked me out at the garrison at my graduation ceremony." Keith said with a smile.

And that drop echoed through his ears like a glass shattering on the ground.

Keith's final year at the garrison had been when Shiro was selected for the Kerberos mission. It was what prompted their large fight before Shiro left, and had still been a sore spot for them both when they met back up, as they both had said some pretty vicious things that they didn't mean. Since forming Voltron and being reunited, it was water under the bridge since forgiveness was more important after the full year of forced separation, but still.

Shiro hadn't attended Keith's graduation.

"But, wasn't that during- but Kerberos?"

Keith's head tilted, finally from confusion. He took Shiro's face into his hands, looking into Shiro's eyes and stretching at the lower eyelid.

"What, what are you doing?"

"Your eyes aren't dilated." He said like static.

"Huh?"

Keith sighed, moving back. "Usually before an episode or a hallucination your eyes dilate and you talk about this Kerberos thing… It's like it's a trigger word or something, but no one knows what it means."

"But Kerberos, the Moon Kerberos." Keith visibly winced and shuddered at the word.

"I was sent away on a mission there, to Kerberos, for research, but then- but after - and I, I mean, I was on Ker-"

"Stop saying that name!" Keith shouted, slamming the end of his fork into the table.

"Kerberos isn't a thing, Shiro. Please. That is just some silly hallucination, a false memory that you have. And that word- it scares me, okay?… I don't want to see you…" Keith spoke with more emotion here than he had ever since forming Voltron, and that worried Shiro. He was never one to be this open, usually holding in his reservations unless intrigued or annoyed.

But he bit his tongue, not arguing back. He submitted to what this Keith was saying, needing the younger one to calm down. However, that didn't mean Shiro liked what he had to say, or even believed it. Quite honestly, Shiro refused to believe anything that Keith was saying, none of that was true, could be true. Sure, he'd suffered amnesiac tendencies before, but not to this degree. He knew what was real, and Voltron and the Lions were real, no matter how absurd they sounded in this life.

Keith once again bit his lip, a small habit that could soon possibly give a new definition to the word split lip if it continued. Shiro presumed that Keith was withholding information that he seemed to fear would toss Shiro over the edged into one of those 'episodes' he mentioned prior.

"Remember what Dr. Coran said? Deep breaths, count to ten, and things will clear up. You're just having a bad day. I just don't want to see it make you worse with that kind of talk." He tried to explain, holding onto his own cup of coffee now as the steam rose over his sharp features.

"Sorry…" Shiro painfully uttered, his shoulder pushing forward. "So… none of us made it to Space?" Keith snorted loudly, finally shoving a fork full of egg into his mouth.

"I'd sooner be a stripper in Romania before they allowed me to pilot a space craft. Not like I'd want to, though, those ungrateful asshats." Keith snarled. Shiro picked up on the underlying anger in his voice that he hadn't even tried to hide. Shiro felt it was best not to ask.

So the room fell silent, Keith picking slowly at his food while Shiro contemplated ignorantly with his cup of coffee. One of Keith's words drifted over Shiro's mind as he analyzed Keith's dry explanations.

"Wait. Dr. Coran?!" Shiro suddenly shouted out. Keith was visibly stunned by the enthusiasm.

"Yeah, your specialist? What, do you remember him?!" Keith asked, perking up with his own eagerness. And Shiro didn't have the heart to tell him the truth, that the Coran he thought of wasn't the same.

"I- well… I mean, in pieces. I know him, and I can see him." Okay, white lie, because Shiro couldn't lie all that well in the first place. In some capacities sometimes he could, but it was something he earnestly tried his damndest to avoid.

Keith smiled then, sipping at his cup.

"You remember him but not your own fiancée. Sheesh."

And Shiro stilled at that word, still not believing that him and Keith, Keith and him, himself and the other person in the room with black hair known as Keith, were a thing. An Item. Partners…. Together.

It didn't feel wrong, per say, but this way, how he found out, it just didn't sit well.

Honestly, Shiro had always pictured it (hoped was also another word) that when they made it back down to Earth, Shiro would cook Keith a nice dinner before asking him out on an official date. He planned it, left him feeling positive and hopeful during those dark nights within the Galra prisons, and even later on when the responsibility of leading Voltron became too much to sleep at night.

Shiro had thought about it, imagined it, dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen? This just seemed too picturesque.

"Actually, speaking of Coran, I should probably call him to tell him about your day." Keith muttered.

"Do you know what triggered it?" Shiro asked, trying to garner more information from Keith. The other shrugged his shoulders.

"Multitude of things: bad health, oncoming cold, stress, sometimes you forget to take your pills. Hell, even a headache caused it once." Keith sighed, pointing towards Shiro's empty cup.

"But enough about that. Want another coffee?"

Shiro was not proud to admit how he practically threw the cup into Keith's awaiting hands.

"So we're going to Hunk's because Hunk is proposing to Lance and we've had this planned for months."

"Yup."

"And Allura is rooming with Nyma who is dating Rolo."

"Yup."

"And Pidge will be there with Matt."

"Yup."

"So we're going to the mall to pick a congratulatory gift."

"Yup."

"….. And Coran is a doctor?"

"Yup."

Honestly it was the last that was the toughest to believe.

Shiro sighed, falling back into the passenger seat, watching time fly by as they drove. Keith hated malls, had always hated anything too crowded. The fact that it was a bad day just made this worse.

It was a Sunday, his one day of the week off from his two jobs, Shiro had discovered. If it was a bad day, Keith would usually call in sick, his employers knowing his unique circumstances that led to him taking care of Shiro.

Keith drove the grey 94' Buick, not too much of an unpleasant car to drive, and it saved on mileage what it cost in repairs. Keith bought it for dirt cheap when he needed to get around. They lived in the same town just outside of the garrison in the Californian desert, just as Shiro had guessed, and remained on the far outskirts in the cheaper part of the increasing area. While more cost effective, this just made it more difficult for Keith to get around. He thought he needed a better vehicle to rely on not only for himself but under the the pretense that Shiro would one day be unconscious and needed to get to a hospital sans an ambulance.

Because damn, those things were expensive.

Shiro felt a tiny slash across his heart when he heard how Keith sold his beloved bike for something more 'useful' in his eyes.

"We were moving, and a bike was difficult to move things with. Also we needed one, Shiro, don't give me that look." He had bickered at the time.

"Why did we move in the first place?" Shiro had questioned after he saw pictures of himself and Keith posing back in their older, nicer apartment.

"Because loud sounds like traffic or sirens can sometimes set you off, and we lived downtown." Was his quick response before they left their small home.

They hadn't talked until Keith began explaining the situation for that evening.

"So gifts. Any ideas?" Keith prompted, pulling a left as the light turned yellow.

Shiro remained silent, only watching Keith drive. "You're different." Shiro whispered instead of replying to the question at hand.

Keith eyes popped, baffled at the quick change of dialogue. He looked at Shiro briefly between glances at the road. "What?"

"You're different. The Keith I remember used to always take risks. There were two large gaps just then that you could have turned left through, but you chose to wait."

Shiro noticed Keith's hands stiffening against the wheel, the now usual bite of a lip appearing.

"Things happened, alright? I learned to take precautions. I thought you'd be happy about that considering all the shit you used to give me back at the garrison."

"Touché."

A few more minutes of silence past while Keith pulled into the parking lot.

"How old are you anyway?"

"Just turned 21 two months ago."

Shit. This Keith was only a year and a half than his Keith, and he looked so much older. It scared Shiro.

In hindsight, Keith was always one of those people who held a certain maturity to him, looking more like an old man as a baby, and always having a sense of wisdom beyond his years- sure.

But this one just looked tired, and not a tired as in one night of good sleep would help, but rather from the situation he didn't ever seem able to escape. Small lines cracked at the corner of his eyes, contrasting against the light. The dark circles didn't help his paled and lithe complexion much either.

The kid just looked exhausted, Shiro thought in silence.

Then again, the world had never been kind to him.

"So here's the thing: I insisted on buying wine and chocolate, but you said 'Nooo, Keith. That's what everyone will do. Lets get them something different!' without actually telling me what that something different was. And the day we go to get the damned gift? You don't even remember. Unbelievable…" Keith ranted, sternly marching through the mall with a very fast set pace. Shiro was having a difficult time keeping up, his eyes being drawn to all the different stores he hadn't seen for so long. He was taking everything in. The sights. The sounds. The smells. The people. He never loved malls much either, but it was civilization. An Earth civilization that he hadn't even realized he had missed so much, and maybe that's when Shiro started to feel the dull ache that only loneliness from Space could create. He had great friends and paladins as comrades, sure, but that didn't mean he could miss this. This still existed, and Shiro had almost forgotten about it all. The artificial lights, aluminum floor tiles that shone from wax, and the stale metal smell mixing in with the waving scents of the deep-fried haven that was the food court. It was so completely artificially made, but human.

"What about a gift card?" Keith spoke up again, forcing Shiro out of his reverie.

"Huh?"

"What about a gift card?" He repeated. He was pointing towards a very nice and increasingly expensive looking jewelry store that had a very Eastern European name which Shiro could neither read nor pronounce. "Lance really likes this place, and they'll need to get wedding bands eventually. Maybe a gift card or something?"

Shiro weakly shook his head, the headache from earlier slowly taking over. It flowed through his body like hot molten lava, a heavy metal sheet seemingly falling over his muscles. "I think they should decide where they go." He breathed.

Keith nodded, slowing down his pace. He reached for Shiro's hand, picking it up and turning them both around toward the other direction.

A faint blush made its way to Shiro's cheek. There was a kind and warm feeling taking over as Keith led them, his hand still holding onto his. It still wasn't something Shiro could believe himself having.

"Come on. I'm thirsty. Food court." Keith monotonously explained.

The smaller man placed Shiro at a small booth and walked past him to a Booster Juice. Shiro remained in Keith's line of sight and close enough to run back to if something happened. With a robotic voice, Keith ordered two green something smoothies that he knew Shiro enjoyed.

After a few minutes, Keith placed the bigger one in front of Shiro, and bit at the straw of his own, denting it. He shimmied around as he too sat down in the chair, unzipping one of the bags of his commonly used fanny packs.

Shiro had always wondered what he kept in there. But to his surprise, the revelation of all those late night wonderings was a little anticlimatic. Keith pulled out a Tylenol bottle, alongside another white prescription pill bottle and pushed them both towards Shiro.

"Medication. It'll help with your headache." He supplied when Shiro offered an unclear expression. The pill bottle clearly read in a large printed font: 'Temozolomide Capsules. 100 mg. Shirogane, Takashi. Take twice a day.'

Shiro knew that the longer the word, the more trouble he was in. Luckily, that word hadn't seemed too long.

"So… Capsules. I used to be against anything like this..." Shiro said, folding the bottle in his unsteady hand, looking at the big pills through the yellow plastic.

Keith only nodded while he sucked back his grossly-reminiscent-to-puke green smoothie. He reached back for the bottle, gesturing for Shiro to hand it back to him. Shiro complied, and watched as Keith made quick work opening the lid and supplying Shiro with two little pills.

"After the accident we were going to go with Avastin. But that has to be applied every two weeks to a vein through the eye by a doctor. And with your fear of needles, well…." Keith somewhat joked when he tampered off his sentence with an indignant roll of his eyes. He made a sad smile, scratching at the back on his neck. "But that was also more expensive and had more risks, so we just went with this guy." He shook the pill bottle, placing it back into his bag. "I mean, easy enough, but I think we forgot it today. It's still early enough though, so it should be fine for one bad day." He offered, albeit a little wary.

Shiro blinked, specifically at the words 'accident' and Keith's use of 'we' for his own medication. He waited for Keith to explain, but never got the response he wanted, left with only a blank stare and a tilted gesture for Shiro to hurry up and take the damned medication.

He gulped, having always been a little on the apprehensive side about pharmaceutical drugs. He thought they were great for some people, he was just one of those who tried to stay away from them unless absolutely necessary.

However, given Keith's impatient stare, this seemed absolutely necessary.

He tossed the pills in his mouth, and sipped the dry crusty taste back with the smoothie. He banged his hand against the table in his distaste when the capsules dissolved on his tongue since he couldn't swallow fast enough. He was left with the gross, charred dust remaining in its place. It tasted foul and chemical like. He chugged the smoothie, forcing the chalk like substance down his unyielding throat before shoving out his tongue in disgust when they finally (finally!) went down.

"Ughh! That was disgusting!" He complained and sucked back more of his smoothie.

Keith just watched from the other side of the table with his head in his hands, holding a small smile on a face that clearly thought that Shiro owned the world.

He sighed, his double eyelashes fanning against his smooth pale skin and protruding cheekbones.

"Stop whining, you big baby." He said with no real malice left in his drained voice.

They left the mall a little after one. Keith drove them back as soon as the drugs had started to hit Shiro in an unpleasant way, having taken them after eating. He now wanted to nap more than anything, which was an unusual thing for his body to yearn. His eyes were feeling tired and heavy underneath the pressure of his dissipating headache.

They left with a nice set of cutting knives for Hunk, and a silk robe and fluffy slippers for Lance. Lance had yet to stop complaining about how his last pair had been mauled simultaneously by their two puppies. Keith seemed a little worried about the overall price, but quickly assured Shiro it was no problem with a reassuring smile and paid with it all on his credit card. Honestly, if Shiro hadn't been watching every one of Keith's emotions, he never would have noticed the small tick of his eyebrow in worry when the price was wrung up.

Now, they sat in the car, classic rock playing in the background.

"So you only have one day off a week?" Shiro asked, looking through the bags at the set of knives, admiring their perfect colouring and thinking about excitement on Hunk's face when he opened it. He blinked, trying to keep himself awake for the rest of the car ride, forcing his brain to be active enough to stimulate a conversation.

Keith nodded, looking around before pivoting into the next lane.

"What is it that you do again?" Shiro asked through a gulp of spit to clear his dry throat.

Keith shrugged, almost self-conscious when rolling his shoulder into himself.

"Oh. I open mornings Monday-Fridays at the shop."

"The shop?"

"Y'know. Like mechanics? I fix up cars and vehicles for rich families and all that." He waved off, eyes fixated on the road.

Shiro tried not to let the scowl appear on his face. Keith had been the top pilot of his class, why the hell was he working at such a low paying mechanic job of all things? He knew Keith liked fixing vehicles and admired their inner systems, but that was always a hobby. His real dream had always been to fly in the stars. Where was all that talk?

Brushing off his own impeding thoughts, Shiro continued asking Keith about his life, trying to pry more answers for his own empty memories.

"And if I'm having a bad day, you call in?"

Keith nodded, biting at his lip.

"Yeah. Like I said, it doesn't happen too often, and they get my circumstances. So they try and help out when they can."

"And they're just okay with that?" Shiro asked with a certain degree of disbelief.

"I mean, ultimately not really. I'm not considered reliable, but they know I'm a hard worker so I'm given some slack. Also, I just use up my own sick days and holidays for you. It's fine, I got it covered."

"What about you?"

"I'm sorry?" Keith couldn't help but ask, his eyebrows arching in genuine confusion.

"What about when you get sick?" Shiro emphasized.

Keith shook his head, obviously baffled when he let out a stiff laugh.

"I don't get sick. Can't afford to." He offered a wink towards Shiro with a kind smile. "But Vlad's cooler about it than my other boss."

Shiro tilted his head. "Vlad?"

"Mhmm." Keith nodded, looking back through the rearview mirror before locking eyes again on Shiro. "Vladimir Zarkon?"

Keith didn't understand when Shiro promptly started losing his gut, laughing so hard until he was left hunched over and crying.

"Ahhhhhahah, Vladimir Zarkon? I just- Oh god, I needed that! Aahhahaha!" It was loud, boisterous and whole heartedly perfect, even when he snorted so hard it hurt trying to reign himself in. This in itself forced him into another laughing fit. It furthered the waves of nausea that he felt, but he forced them at bay, the laughing too addicting to stop.

Laughing was the best medication after all.

In the meanwhile, Keith became tense even though he too was chuckling at Shiro's obscure behaviour. "What? What? What did I miss?" He couldn't help but giggle.

"His name. It's Vladimir Zarkon! That's incredible!" Shiro explained, wiping at a stray tear.

"Well, yeah. It was something either Russian or Polish when his great-grandparents came over, but they couldn't pronounce or write it, so they shortened it to what the registration people could kind of understand." Keith explained.

"Okay… Okay..." Shiro giggled with suffering breaths. His vision blanched and he began to feel dizzy, a pulling deeply rooted in his chest became present. It was pushing itself forward, needed to be seen. It hurt as it banged along with his heartbeat. Shiro sucked in a breath, his eyes fluttering when he felt himself sway. He looked at his hand and saw two.

"And what's the other job?" Shiro took a final breath, trying to calm himself. He shook his head, forcing his focus on Keith, the Keith who remained smiling brightly, more than Shiro had yet to see all day. It was nice, somehow helping in making Keith that happy.

"Coffee shop downtown. I close Tuesday through Saturday. Which is nice, because on Saturday we close at 10 and not 12."

Shiro nodded. "Makes sense. You do make a mean cup of coffee."

"Always have. Didn't need a coffee shop job to teach me that."

Keith parked the car in their driveway, and waited until Shiro was up and out before trying to lock it. He waited for Shiro to start walking, Keith falling into a natural pace behind him, watching his back with a desperate intensity.

Obviously the waves of dizziness hadn't slipped past Keith's keen eye.

It surprised Shiro. Keith had always been observational, but this was taking it to extremes. His eyes were almost always focused on Shiro and his own movements. He held doors open, made sure Shiro was always walking in front of him, or was within walking distance and within eyesight. He was making sure Shiro's needs were met before his own, which Shiro noticed when Keith kept giving him more of their limited supply of food.

Shiro figured they only had so much money, since it seemed Shiro didn't work. Or at least, Keith had yet to tell Shiro what in carnation his job was. Keith seemed to be the main source of income, and seemed to be running himself into the ground doing so.

The kid had obviously lost weight, which was worrisome since he had been small and lithe to being with.

At least his Keith had muscles hiding underneath those loose clothes. Shiro was just worried this one was closer to bones.

Shiro sighed as he mulled it all over. Whatever health problem he had that forced him to take that medication, Keith probably knew Shiro's triggers or ticks before he even did, and that upset him.

"Hey, Keith? I'm just going to go for a nap, if that's okay. What time is the party again?"

Keith shut the door quietly, moving around to kick of his shoes with the purchased bags still in his hands. "Sure thing. I'll just be down here wrapping the gifts anyways. The party's at seven. So nap your little heart out." He called, moving around Shiro who started walking up the stairs. Keith entered the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter, not noticing Shiro watching him behind the corner rather than taking his much needed nap.

Shiro couldn't help but notice how Keith's back remained tense, drawn up and ridged, as if always ready and concerned. He moved with precision, like every step was a practiced action for a ballet performance. He opened up the door that lead to their backyard, never once relaxing. "Red! Black!" He called out loudly. And almost immediately, two younger looking cats came scattering in, brushing their bushy tails against Keith's shin.

Keith fell to his knees, scratching at their ears and giving them both the attention they were begging for. The little calico meowed loudly, falling onto her back and exposing her belly and asking for a rub.

The near completely black and fluffly ragdoll pawed at Keith's feet, and Shiro was surprised they hadn't name it 'Mittens' or 'Boots' due to it's perfectly white paws on each foot.

Keith stayed still on his knees, making cooing noises to the little animals, which was way too cute in Shiro's rightful opinion.

"Who wantsa belly rub, huh, Red? Would you like a belly rub? Ohh, Black. I'm not forgetting about you, don't worry." He laughed, pushing back at the lifted paw that was clawing at his knee for attention.

Black seemed to claw for attention, while the little calico, Red, just meowed loudly for her wants.

Shiro smiled, taking in the scene of Keith happily petting the cats before lifting himself up with a rough sigh.

Shiro turned then, the need to nap becoming intense through the deepening ache of his headache.

As Shiro slept, he didn't dream. No. He knew he was asleep and yet had no control over what he was seeing. This wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced before.

Shiro felt himself leave his body, feeling dazed, confused, and completely broken. His limbs felt heavy as he floated, eyes barely blinking awake.

He felt a kind coolness hit his skin, a spirituality that demanded to be paid attention to through the heavy presence. Shiro awoke to what looked to be the astral plane where he once battled Zarkon for Black's trust. The remaining brindle of hope that this wasn't some false memory lifted in Shiro's chest, a relief falling over his shoulders.

He remained only more confused when he walked around with no real direct path. There seemed to be no real ending place. The last he was here it was for a purpose, this time just seemed to be recreational. He looked at the liquid floor that reflected all around him, the strange pull form his chest now making itself known as the Black Lion, begging for its current paladin to return. The side effects of nausea faded in the back of his mind as he let the connection of Black flood over him. He could sense someone else, though, also calling out to Black. It was unlike Zarkon, less drastic and intense, but it still weakened at Shiro's own connection. Wherever he was, he was too far away to get a real and complete grip on his lion.

Space fell around him, the sky reflecting on the floor like it was the large white salt flats at Salar de Uyuni and-

That was a strange reference.

Shiro blinked back. He had never been to Salar de Uyuni, but he had memories from it, could see unknown black figures waving towards him when he closed his eyes. They were laughing at him as he held a heavy black camera in both of his human hands. He remembered taking pictures there, the heat hitting his exposed skin, somehow still cooler than the summer air of desert California.

He remembered feeling free, happy, and yet unfulfilled. There was someone who wasn't there, one single black figure who should have been and still remained missing. Shiro couldn't grasp their face, only the dark crevice of their shadow lingering in the background of Shiro's mind.

He felt the energy of the astral plane rise through him, and more images appeared as Black's bond with him grew. It felt unsteady, shifting in his mind's grip, but it was there, more hallow and raw than Shiro had felt in a while.

Black felt calm, finding her Paladin through the greying mist of the ridiculous plane. She was there, connecting, sending images, but Shiro still couldn't reach her. Where was she?

That someone else was still there, too, someone else was there with Black, calling for its attention. Shiro almost let them have it when he felt the bond shift and divert, but the need to see the images overpowered the weaker one's pull.

Shiro smiled at the familiarity as Black's energy flew through him near completely. And with it, Shiro flew.

He was running through scenes of a life that wasn't his. He was seeing times that had been shared, a growing relationship he hadn't yet formed, something his but still so private.

He saw Keith on graduation, his gown flowing past his shorter legs, smiling proudly when Shiro hugged him at the end of the walk way in surprise. He'd flown back early from his trip in Bolivia, had been working as an analyst for the garrison doing fieldwork of possible satellite accumulation for hazardous waste. South America was one of these trips, and Shiro had left for a year with Samuel and Matt Holt.

Shiro could see himself falling in love with photography, remembered coming back and falling in love with the art form. The heavy weight of the lens in his palm, creating something that was imitating life was surprisingly more thrilling than Shiro had felt when flying through the simulations at the garrison. This felt more hardy, more real and more tangible that Shiro could get a firm grasp on, rather than just living on the hopes of one day flying.

Photography had instant rewards and thus gratification, flying simply didn't when done through a practiced simulation.

He saw Shiro and Keith laughing while they laid on a couch one night, a different apartment laid out as his setting. There was a movie being played in the background, ignored even behind the sirens and beeps of the moving vehicles below. The two men hadn't paid attention to either. They appeared to be too invested in their conversation, teasing the other with soft pushes and laughing. The other Shiro had innocently reached for his camera, snapping a picture of the shirtless and scandalized Keith. His hair was still a bird's nest of untamable pieces, but the blush that fell over his features was one of the most beautiful things Shiro had ever laid eyes upon. The image ran blurry, and Shiro was flung through a mosaic of somber events.

Time passed, and the other Shiro continued taking pictures, forcing himself into more risqué locations for better shots. He was rewarded for his hard work and dedication, but he could see Keith becoming more tense along the sidelines.

He'd even started selling his photography to magazines, earning some side cash while he continued to work at the Garrison. Keith was working too, training to pilot a spacecraft for an upcoming mission to Europa, one of Jupiter's moons.

Things were going well for the younger two, but it was ultimately a storm that broke everything apart.

The garrison had been asking for other locations for smaller departments to run their increasing base. They were asking specifically for a higher up area, possibly within the nearby mountains. Shiro had been sent to start scouting.

Shiro had also seen an ad that wanted a lightning strike shot, new and never before seen for 400 dollars.

Shiro just decided to work for both of his jobs at the same time.

He decided to go scouting late at night during one of the largest storms of the year. He figured that if he could get high enough for a good view with already good satellite frequencies during a storm, Shiro had just found the newest location for their secondary and smaller communications base.

He drove out to the bottom of the well known trail, hiking his way up the mountains while watching literal rivers of water run down beside him, making the mud unsteady as it tried to give way beneath his feet

The sinking and slippery mud that ran between his legs made it too difficult of a trail to climb this late at night. So he went off the path when he realized he couldn't go quickly enough for his desired shot. The storm was passing too quickly.

He rounded a corner, ending up at the rock face and bottom of the heightened cliff. He could feel the exciting devotion running through his proud veins, stimulating him to move like a kid on Christmas morning.

He wasn't one to do something like this, chase the adrenaline of a storm, but here he was and loving it. He'd left the logical side back at home where Keith was still currently sleeping, too fucked and blissed out to notice Shiro's missing form beside him. A new adventurous and bold side took its place. The risk seemed to fall below the reward in Shiro's adrenaline run mind.

He climbed, nearly slipping and falling a few times. The rain poured on his face, making it hard to see while he climbed forward, reaching up with both of his human hands. Against all odds but perseverance, he reached the top of the plateaued cliff, a single oddly shaped tree blowing in the wind against the rain. Its barren branches shook with fervor, and its two remaining leaves held on with sheer will power. They trembled, just as Shiro's skin did in his euphoria. He shouted out, yelling a cheer against the powerful and daunting clouds crawling closer towards him.

Shiro crouched next to the tree alongside the loosened and slippery cliff's edge.

He set up his camera, waiting for the perfect time.

Thunder could be heard over the rain, and Shiro smiled, his finger pressing against the button. And just as the spark blew out from the clouds, Shiro pressed his finger down. He got the shot, not on but two veiny lightning strikes hitting the town just below him. It was perfect, the colours exploding through the stretching sparks, contrasting light against the falling dark blue rain and greying, almost purple like mammatus clouds. When Shiro looked at his own piece, it felt like he could reach in and hold the large lighting strikes, they were so close. It wasn't one of those dainty, far away shots. No, Shiro was up close and personal. The bold lines of the photograph displayed his risky uncharacteristic nature.

Shiro felt a sense of pride when he further observed, the spark emitting into the ground and hitting the town, seemingly sparking it to life with its intense electricity. The town remained buzzing and charmingly alive, even against the dense storm.

Shiro got up, beginning to put his camera away when he heard the thunder again, closer, above his head.

He didn't have time to move before the lightning struck, and Shiro felt the sparks that he'd seen only through his photograph enter his body, arching his back with a pained scream. He was still too close to the cliff, the rocks still too slippery, his mind too dazed.

He teetered on the edge as his body swayed back and forth, and he felt a heavy raindrop hit his chest. It was the little pressure his body needed, and Shiro fell backwards. The strangely shaped tree slipped further and further out of his reach, and he just couldn't understand why.

Shiro didn't feel it when he landed on his arm.

Shiro watched as an accumulation of tests were run on the body that wasn't quite his own. He witnessed first hand how he'd just barely made it, his new prosthetic attached like a gift from the modern gods.

Keith sat crying in the hospital chair every night and day that he was allowed. He mostly remained alone, but their friends visited when they could, Shiro's own parents offering support before heading off to their nightly hotel after knowing their son was still alive.

Keith held his hands those nights, and Shiro felt himself surge with pride for the boy, a warmth of love entering his chest.

The doctors were confused when his body was rejecting the medication, but they soon discovered an allergen they hadn't noticed before. But they still ran more tests, more scans on his unconscious body.

It turned out that Shiro would be somewhat okay from the lightning strike, the arm would take some getting used to-

But what was that? What was showing up in his brain scans?

Why did the white rooms that smelled only like Lysol and chemicals continue long after Shiro had woken up?

Why did Shiro keep needing pills, why was he forgetting memories, why were the painful waves of nausea and dizziniess ensuing?

It turned out that the other Shiro was in worse shape than Keith had let on. The frequent headaches he'd felt had not just been a symptom of the changing weather and a sign of old age, as Keith had joked back in the memories when Shiro had finally woken up.

Shiro watched the other Shiro argue with Keith, long out of the hospital but still in distress. They were sitting at the round kitchen table from before, both crying and yelling. The words were silent to Shiro as he observed on the side, a loud ringing echoing through the darkening scene.

The garrison had fired Shiro for breach of contract. He'd knowingly put himself in danger, going out after hours of garrison labour, crossing boundaries he wasn't legally allowed.

Keith asked for a raise to support the mass of hospital bills, now that Shiro was laid off.

It was never granted.

He'd asked for partial sick leave to help Shiro with the upcoming hospital trips.

These too were never granted.

Keith became increasingly frustrated, and lashed out at Iverson after Shiro had his first 'episode' and Keith wasn't there to help him through it. Apparently, Shiro almost died when he ran out into traffic, screaming something out purple cat aliens chasing him, coming after him. They had taken his arm!

In this realm, that was how Iverson obtained the dreadful scar over his eye, Keith's dagger meeting too close to hardened skin.

Shiro remembered seeing Iverson briefly when he was quarantined after his return, somewhat surprised by the scar Iverson had over his eye that wasn't there before.

Somehow Shiro had that sinking feeling that the two incidences from this realm and his own reality weren't too far apart.

And Shiro drifted through the astral plane, regaining more memories, more events, more times that he himself had never experienced.

The first time the two met, though, was still the same.

Shiro could still picture it, smiling as he memorized word-for-word the exchange.

Keith, a scared little boy who'd just run away from his 9th foster home, so afraid of being sent back to the orphanage that he hid behind a dumpster for 6 days. He was small, malnourished, and obviously had been smacked around a bit.

The younger Shiro ran into the scene that first day, laughing brightly against the 8 am sun. He had found Keith on accident when he almost tripped over him, and it was one of the best accidents of his life.

Shiro had been wanting to prank a friend he walked to school with everyday, and soon hid behind the dumpsters to jump out and scare the other boy, whose name escaped Shiro years later. He bumped into Keith, small, tiny, little nine year old Keith, who still remained like a ball of fire and light. He yelled up at him and told him to watch where he stepped (he was standing on Keith's makeshift bed for Godsake! Who raised him, wolves? Keith berated). Twelve year old Shiro didn't know how to react, and instead gave him his sandwich each day on his way to school, and an apple on his way back. He found out Keith went to his school, and felt his heart thump loudly against his chest when he realized no one had yet tried reporting Keith as missing.

Keith showed up in the same clothes and empty backpack day in and day out, and no one noticed.

So Shiro decided to be that force in his life, that factor of support that everyone needed. Shiro promised to show Keith more love and care than anyone ever had.

He promised Keith a forever.

The younger boy never lived with the Shirogane's, Takashi's Dad too ill to adopt and take care of another child (and after such a recent divorce too!) but he may as well have.

Keith was relocated time and time again after Social Services figured it out three weeks later.

Whenever a care home or the orphanage turned sour which ½ times it did, Keith would run to Shiro's, staying safe and protected under the warmth of the shared sheets.

Their beginning never changed, Shiro noticed.

And finally the other's calling of Black became too strong, too frantic, too in need for Shiro to remain in charge. He let go of the bond with the Lion and finally fell into the head of the control panel. He could finally see who it was that he had been mentally battling against for control.

Shiro was surprised to instead find himself watching as a fight raged in front of him. Explosions ripped dust and machines apart, and the pieces were sent flying right into the glass. He observed, not sitting in his usual seat but watching from behind as someone else piloted, shouting orders.

"-nce! Watch out! Hunk, get in front of Pidge and help dodge the attacks. Stay behind us and keep them at a distance. Lance, you and me are going to attack the base. Alright?" A muffled response could be heard, and Keith, his Keith, jutted the controls forward, moving Black with confidence and precision that was as accurate as his movements in the kitchen.

Had Keith always been that on edge?

Shiro couldn't help but reach out, couldn't stop himself before calling out 'Keith'. He just barely saw a flash of black hair turn to him before he was swept away into oblivion, taken away from the ongoing battle. He never did see his Keith's face.

Shiro opened his eyes, and found himself back in the bedroom, still cocooned underneath the livid blue duvet as the opened window left a cool breeze running through the room.

"I have a tumor." Was all Shiro said to make his entrance known.

Keith had been napping across the leather chair, a book fallen open in his lap and a cat over his legs and another resting on the armrest. His face was smooshed into the white leather like a pillow, and Shiro could already feel the kink that Keith was going to have in his neck later on.

He jumped up when Shiro made the announcement, and the cats took off.

"Wh-what?" He asked wildly, hair tossed and wild. He was forcing his mind awake, unsure of what was happening. Shiro noticed how he still remained on edge, always afraid, and yet ready in case anything were to happen.

He was always painfully prepared.

"I have a tumor. I'm dying." Shiro took a seat on the opposite side of Keith, arms in his lap and his eyes staring at the wide-eyed boy. Keith's jaw was left opened. He gulped, slowly forcing himself into a sitting position rather than lying with his feet over the arm rest as though it were a couch. The book fell to the ground, but Keith didn't try and pick it up.

"You remember." He spoke with unblinking eyes.

"I remember bits and pieces. I don't know what I have or how long I've had it or any other vital information. All I know is that it's there, and we found out when they were running scans after getting this." Shiro said, pointing towards his own arm.

Keith gulped, feeling sick.

"It's called Stage 4 Glioblastoma." He started to explain with a shake to his voice. "Err- at least that's half of it. They found it too late and it's malignant. You have maybe a year left…"

"Why'd you say it was okay, then?"

"Because on bad days, it only frightens you more and sends you into a frenzie." Keith quickly defended, breaths quickening.

Shiro nodded. He rubbed his fingers over his bottom lip, thinking over the information. "And why did you say it's only half of it."

"Because," Keith sighed, heavy and unhappy, "Because Gliobastoma is a cancerous brain tumour. It causes nausea, headaches, and even memory impairment. But it doesn't cause hallucinations or episodes like you have. They think the lightning may have changed your brain chemistry, or something… but Glioblastoma doesn't cause that. So. Mystery unsolved."

Shiro clenched his metal arm, having now other theories for that pivotal development but felt rather unwilling to share them.

"Well, I guess that's a mystery that soon won't matter, though." He humorlessly joked.

Keith threw his head up, eyes shining when he shook his head.

"No. No, don't say that Shiro. You still have time. See?" He launched forward, grabbing at Shiro's hand and pressing into it. He forced Shiro to look at him from his voice alone, his unblinking eyes having more to say than Keith would ever say aloud.

"You're here today, you're lucid and walking, and that's great! That's actually way better than you've been all last week! The doctors say you only have a year but there might be more. We might still have time, I think."

Shiro sighed, biting his lip while he watched Keith remain in denial.

"And what about after? I know we're already in debt because of me. You're working two jobs just to support us: the house, the car, the bills. And you're killing yourself doing it-"

"Don't talk about after, it's not happening soon, Shiro! And anyways, I'm doing it because it's you and I know you'd do the same for me, so please! Shut. Up. Takashi." There was a venom there, an underlying anger that resonated within Keith.

Shiro would call himself afraid if he hadn't ever seen it before.

But he had, was actually very well acquainted with it really. It was the same underlying anger that Keith spent most of his youth dwelling in. He never yelled and threw tantrums at specific people as it so often appeared, but rather at the realization that he couldn't control any of his situations.

His parents left him, his foster care parents were typically shit, Shiro was dying. These were things he couldn't control, and instead of crying about it, he became angry, and then dissociated himself so he wouldn't have to feel.

It was a dark mechanism that left Keith feeling more alone than he'd care to admit.

The grey fell over the violet eyes as Keith moved himself away from Shiro. He transferred onto autopilot as he sighed and walked towards the kitchen. He differed to internalizing the situation, needing to be inside his own head where it was actually quiet for once.

"Want coffee?' He asked, voice raw and faded.

Shiro stood up, Black moving to rub against his foot before the little cat patted away.

Shiro followed Keith into the kitchen, watching as he grabbed the coffee grinds and poured them into the machine. He opened the cabinet just above his head, lifting the two mugs with a slight shake of his hands. He eyed Shiro's carefully, mulling over it like Shiro was already gone.

Shiro couldn't help it; he moved behind Keith and wrapped his arms around the bony waist.

He pressed his scarred nose into the arch of Keith's ridged back, holding him close when Keith began to cry.

Keith crying was much like Keith doing anything else. It was silent and more internalized. There were small, barely there tremors that he had complete control of the entire time. Keith rarely let himself go, which Shiro figured the kid plainly needed. But Keith was stubborn here as he was everywhere else- he wasn't going to allow anyone or himself see him lose it.

So he cried in silence, breathing in harsh breathes when Shiro rubbed his back and only let a few sobs escape his dry throat.

It took twenty minutes for him to calm down, another twenty minutes in the shower to clean up, and then apparently it was time to go.

Shiro took everything in stride, following Keith like a lost puppy even if Shiro thought that Keith really should be staying in for the night.

They were late arriving to Hunk and Lance's get together, but were surprisingly not the last to show up. Coran and Allura always won that particular category.

Apparently this was something the group did once a month since graduating, trying to stay in contact with their group of best friends they made at the garrison. Keith was on edge, as always, and it didn't go past anyone else's eyes. It just showed the camaraderie they had built as a tight knit group.

When the door opened, Lance promptly brought Keith in for a strong hug, frowning slightly when he took in Keith's still puffy and reddened face. He patted his shoulder, forcing Keith into the warmth of the more extravagant one bedroom condo before turning to Shiro with a light smile.

They all knew the situation, so Shiro just needed to play along for one evening. He could do that, couldn't he? He felt a little tear in his chest, something moving away, deteriorating along with a blurring eye sight. It split completely in two, and Shiro didn't know exactly what, but the other half drifted away from his loosening grasp.

Shiro pushed the strange sensation away for the time being, trying not to stumble forward.

"Shiro, my main man! How're you doin' today?!" Lance brightly asked, bringing Shiro in for a bro hug.

Shiro smiled at the twenty-two year old. It was nice surprise, noticing the rise in stature and how he was now about the same height as Shiro. He seemed to still be skinny, but Shiro could tell through the black muscle shirt and blue cardigan sweater that Lance had gained muscle, a slight bulkiness showing in places where it hadn't used to be. There was a nice definition, Shiro thought, and he figured his Lance would be proud of himself as well.

Lance's slightly older features had become sharper, eyes somehow kinder, hair still the same length.

Shiro smiled and nodded, patting Lance on the back.

"Good. I'm good today." He decided.

Lance offered a knowing look, but forced it aside when he grabbed Shiro's arm and brought him into the condo.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" He welcomed with joy.

"Lance you say that all the time." A new voice said, turning the corner.

"That's because I mean it all the time!"

Hunk came up behind Lance, wrapping an arm around his waist before placing a kind kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, Shiro. How are you doing today?" Hunk turned towards Shiro with a softness that just balanced on the edge of pity.

Shiro smiled.

"I'm good, Hunk. How are you? It's been a while."

Hunk offered a head tilt before moving from Lance to also hug Shiro. "Well, yeah, I mean, I guess if you count two days as a while." He stated sheepishly.

Right. It hasn't been a while for everyone else. It's only really been a full day, a twenty four hour period of pure confusion that had felt like eons for Shiro.

But sure, two days wasn't that long of a while for anyone else living a normal life.

Shiro kicked off his shoes at the door, moving with Lance and Hunk into their very quaint condo in the upper sect of town.

Huh. Lance and Hunk did well from themselves, Shiro remarked as he walked around their living room. It was well decorated and furnished, with pictures of their friends and families hanging on the walls. There was a stonewall that held a fire place and a large 50' plasma screen TV, which was currently playing music through the Bluetooth speakers built into the roof of each room in the condo.

Shiro stopped just before the grand wrap around couch, noticing what was hung above it.

Lance and Hunk had placed their garrison diplomas side by side above the luscious piece of furniture, a focal point of the room in Shiro's mind.

The condo had a wrap around patio too, and glass doors that pulled Shiro out towards them. He drifted outside alone, Keith's eyes narrowing on his back the entire time- but he never followed.

Shiro stood on the ledge against the railing, looking down on the ants he called people. In was incredible how life still continued moving when everything else was going to shit.

This was all still too confusing.

"Drink, Shiro?" Lance asked, coming up behind the man with a wary look to his face. He had approached silently, watching Shiro as Shiro watched everything else. It startled the slightly taller man, but he felt relief nonetheless when he turned around to just see his intruder as Lance.

"Water, thanks."

"Awhh, come on. It's a get together, one drink won't hurt." Shiro then noticed the pale red looking beverage being offered from Lance's hand. It was filled in a cold looking wine glass, and Shiro felt guilty for wanting to immediately take it.

He tried to give his mind a break; he hadn't had alcohol in ages and just genuinely missed the taste. But he didn't know the ramifications with his medicine, so he held up his hand.

"That's okay, Lance. Really I'm fine."

Lance offered a lopsided grin. "It'll be fine, Shiro. I know you're worried about sugar and all that, but one glass of cranberry juice won't hurt you." He said with a wink.

Shiro's jaw fell a little, laughing when he gave Lance a small, teasing shove.

Lance snorted, moving out of the way and dodging the soft hit.

"But actually, though. I have my own wine I want to drink, and I know Keith wants you to have something a little higher in calories before dinner."

At the mention of Keith, the two turned towards the rest of the group where the younger man remained. Keith sat on the couch just underneath the two diplomas, laughing at a joke Hunk was telling. Pidge came around the corner from the open kitchen alongside Matt, holding out a platter of hors d'oeuvre. Keith took two, biting into one while he placed the other in an offered napkin from Matt.

Lance sighed, knowing he was saving it for Shiro.

"So, cranberry juice?" Lance offered again with a knowing smile.

"You know me too well."

He practically shoved the ice cold cranberry juice into Shiro's larger hands, his smile boasting his win while he tried to remained nonchalant. So Lance shrugged. "Just know your weak points." Lance said in earnest. He picked up his own wine from behind him, cheering his glass with Shiro as they remained on the patio on outside.

The two leaned over the balcony, looking at the tall apartment buildings just across the street. The desert sun was setting, offering a blinding streak of yellow, oranges, and reds piercing into Shiro's eyes from the opposite glass windows.

"You look good today." Lance detailed, looking away from Shiro's catching eyes.

"Thanks, Lance. I feel good." He responded, squinting through his eyelashes.

The conversation drifted off, an obvious tension lingering in the air between the two. Shiro didn't like it. This felt unnatural for himself and Lance, and not a predicament he usually had to deal with unless Lance was angry with Keith for whatever reason.

"How's work going?" Shiro tried, having no real idea what Lance or Hunk did for their somewhat extravagant life style.

"Works great," Lance nodded. "Yeah, I have about eleven papers to grade for Monday, but I'll make it. I always do." He smiled, sipping at his wine.

Okay: papers, grading. Teacher?

Huh. Lance had always been good with kids, so that wasn't completely out of the realm of possibilities.

"What were the papers on?" Shiro pressed, swirling the cranberry juice around in his glass.

Lance's eyes narrowed, drawing a conclusion to what Shiro was actually asking him.

"They were actually a response paper to my own thesis about Darwin's first proposed Fission Hypothesis. Umm, y'know, possible origins of the moon?" Shiro knew the fission hypothesis, had argued against it at the garrison his first year, since he had always been more of a believer of the capture hypothesis theory, which concluded that the moon was actually a small orbiting planet that just naturally fell into Earth's gravitational pull. It appeared that Lance did not agree with this, however.

"Being a professor at the Garrison has its perks. You have free editors at every corner." He chided.

Oh. That… huh. Not exactly what Shiro ever pictured Lance doing, but then again, Lance was a man of surprises. So surprising Shiro with becoming an academic scholar, and working as professor for the upperclassmen at the garrison didn't seem too odd. And suddenly the higher end apartment didn't seem so out of reach.

"And Hunk?" Shiro asked.

Lance sighed heavily at that, his eyes drifting off as he thought that particular situation over.

"The big lug tries so hard, y'know?" He confessed, throwing out his hands with worry. His wine almost spilled over the ledge he was so enthused by this apparent problem. "I know he loves his job, and he's a great engineer, but he works himself too hard. It worries me, and there's this problem with the Chief Coordinator who is just a fucking bully. Like I know Hunk can handle it, but all the negativity can wear him down…. But, ugh, nevermind. He is doing good, I promise. Tired but good."

The tense air came back.

Shiro took a sip of the cranberry juice, Lance chugging some of his own wine.

He was about to excuse himself at the same time Lance questioned 'so about Keith,' with a dark glare, when a burst of noise came from inside. Both Shiro and Lance turned their heads, regarding the scene. Allura, Nyma, Rolo and Coran all came in together, holding a large cake, multiples boxes of various chocolate and a few bottles of wine.

Huh, Shiro thought. His past self was right about the gift idea.

The new comers did a walk around the room, hugging and greeting everyone with a hug and kiss on everyone's cheeks. Keith didn't seemed turned off by this, smiling through it and offering his own kisses back. The group turned to the closed patio doors, waving wildly at Lance and Shiro to come back through the glass.

Lance offered a somewhat pathetic wave with his free hand.

"Welp, guess that's our queue. Let's get back inside."

The party continued on, appetizers being shoved at him, pitying glances being thrown his way. Keith eventually made his way back to Shiro's side after having downed only one beer and plenty of water. He needed to stay sober to drive back that evening. He offered Shiro the saved napkin of randomly assorted appies he'd found, trying to get Shiro to eat.

Even though Shiro wasn't hungry, had actually felt quite ill since the car ride and the lingering side effects of the dream and whatever the fuck that was back at the door, but he ate the food without complaint.

It was only because Keith had asked him too, anyways.

But as the evening dragged on, it was obvious that the tension hadn't only been between himself and Lance. It seemed to linger around everyone. No one seemed angry at him, but no one seemed to know how to approach him like a human being either.

Shiro guessed that Keith had let everyone know what kind of day it was, but it had left a sour taste in his mouth.

At one point, Lance asked Keith to help him sort out some stuff in the kitchen, which Keith obliged to doing. He noticed the determined look on Lance's face, placing a hand on Keith's upper back as he led him out of the room, trying to crack a joke.

Shiro lifted an eyebrow from his own curiosity. He slowly made his way around the room, taking in the sights and having half hearted conversations with Nyma and Rolo before finding himself pressed against the wall that lead towards the kitchen.

He began to eavesdrop, listening to the hushed tones of Keith and Lance.

"He's getting worse, I just think you should really look at your options and consider-"

"Don't say it, Lance. He already said it today and I don't want to hear it again." Keith interrupted with a deep sigh, Shiro hearing him shuffling around like a mouse. Something sounding like a cabinet then slammed shut, Lance's elephant like stomps becoming a funny contrast to Keith's own quieter nature.

"I'm just worried, okay? You know that's why I'm saying this." Shiro could hear Lance bicker. He looked briefly around the corner, watching Keith and Lance leaning over the counter top as they arranged candles on the cake.

Lance turned around, opening a cabinet and pulling out side plates while Keith grabbed the needed utensils.

"Want another drink?" Lance offered when Keith hadn't responded.

"No thanks. I have to drive."

Lance sighed and pulled up towards Keith. He reached for his shoulder, massaging the bundle of knots lightly. "Jesus, you need to relax, man."

"And you need to butt out of my life, Lance." Keith spoke sternly, a face so angry and scary that Zarkon would probably take a step back.

Lance didn't, and instead crossed his arms seemingly awaiting the challenge.

"He's not the same anymore, man. You have to let go, or else he's going to take you with him. And I for one can't let that happen."

"And what would I do then Lance? Be on my own forever? And why would I just leave him, now of all times?! Would you do that to Hunk?"

At Lance's quiet response and downward shift of his eyes, Keith stepped back. "He only has so much time left, Lance. I'm not going to waste it."

"But you're wasting it now working two jobs trying to pay the bills. I keep offering! You know me and Hunk have been talking, it's fine if-"

"Stop Lance. Just…. Stop."

"We're always here, Keith. You know that. I just don't like to see you running yourself to the ground. I know you love Shiro, we all do, but sometimes, like now? You have to let go."

"I can't, Lance." Keith whispered, biting his lip and moving his head forward so his bangs covered his eyes. "I can't leave him."

Lance moved around the counter, grabbing Keith and pulling him into a tight bear hug. Keith shuddered, but relaxed in his Lance's grip. Lance rubbed his hands up and down his friends back, soothing away the tension.

"And I can't watch you suffer in silence anymore, man. You've been so strong for Shiro through this entire thing. But you need to relax too, you need to sleep and take care of yourself. You've lost even more weight, and don't even try to tell me differently."

Keith sucked in a breath, but didn't try to argue, knowing his position was mute at this point.

He pulled away, rubbing at his eyes, his back still turned to Shiro.

"You need to look after you, or else you're just going to die along with him and all those hallucinations he keeps coming up with."

"It just hurts." Keith confessed, voice as small as he appeared while he scratched at his elbow. "He was my first real best friend. It was the first time I felt like I had a family. He was someone who noticed me and stuck by me through all… the stupid shit I've done." Keith's voice shook. He ran a hand through his darkening feature, his deep lavender eyes still downcast and on the tiled floor. Lance remained strong and silent, being Keith's own needed right hand man and rock of support.

Shiro sucked in a breath.

"He promised me a forever. It just sucks watching his mind tear itself apart with all these fake thoughts. You know when I called you this morning? Afterwards he talked about that Kerberos thing again, like it was real, like it had actually happened. I just don't know what to do anymore, Lance. I cant-" Keith stopped, breathing in a deep breath.

"I'm not leaving him, and I'm not even going to consider it. It just hurts having to watch from the sidelines when he's on deaths door. And there's nothing I can do but make the ride less painful."

Lance held his shoulder, rubbing at it through the entirety of Keith's monologue.

Shiro could tell that Keith was having a difficult time piecing himself back together after that. He'd already had a rough day, this just seemed to be the tip of the iceberg.

"Lets- lets get this cake out there, shall we?" Keith said, a little too loudly to be anything genuine.

In the distance, Shiro heard thunder begin to roar, and he instantly turned to walk away, just barely tripping over two empty dog dishes. He stopped, looked to the names and almost broke into a hysterical laugh when he saw they were name read 'Blue' and 'Yellow'.

He hated this. The second guessing, the not understanding what was happening, the idea that no one believed him nor ever would. That angered him the most. He knew if he brought up any of his theories or ideas he'd just be called crazy, sent away to the looney bin on the idea that this was just another bad day.

Is this what all 'crazy' people dealt with? Was it the anger of not being believed that drove them to the asylums? He knew he wasn't crazy, he knew that all those adventures in space were real.

… Weren't they?

Shiro tried to remain alone, tried to stay out of harms way. He felt that he was too on edge, too near his breaking point to have a well thought out and pliable conversation. Allura and Pidge made their rounds, spending a comfortable amount of time speaking with him about mundane and easy topics before taking off when Lance and Keith returned with the cake. They cut it into small pieces, handing them out to everyone in the room.

Matt was the one to give Shiro his piece, falling onto the couch beside him in silence afterwards. Matt lingered around longer, less sure of what to do and offering less of a conversation, but Shiro just enjoyed the presence nonetheless, happy to be seeing his friend's alive and perfectly fine face.

He only hoped that his Matt would one day be just as well as this one.

If his Matt was actually real, that is.

The straw that broke the camels back was with Coran. Err- Dr. Coran, to be official. He sat down, tweaking his beard between his fingers before turning to Shiro and placing a palm onto his stretched out knee.

Keith pointed an eyebrow, siting down beside Shiro. He was chewing slowly at his own piece of cake, a little unsure of Shiro's now stunted behaviour.

"And Shiro, my boy. How are you today? Keith told me that today is a bad day."

Shiro gave a lighthearted smile, feeling pretty drained from the whole social interaction thing.

"I'm good, Coran. I promise." He said minutely, his voice raw and slightly pained.

"Mhmmm." Coran said, nodding profusely. "And you've been taking your pills?"

Shiro's eye twitched. "As far as I can remember, yes."

Coran sighed loudly, shaking his head.

"I see, well. In any case, if your cognitive impairment seems to progress further, it could further provide the idea that the glioblastoma is progressing into stage 5. Has there been any increased intracranial pressure? Headaches or even seizures I should be made aware? You know what they say, never not tell your doctor-"

Coran's voice faded out, a ringing in Shiro's ears that slowly took over the room with its increasing pressure. Shiro could feel the familiar calling of the lion, so stretched out like a piece of rope. It was extending to the point of ripping apart, shredding itself from within.

But it was there. It had to be, right? That was the lion, and not just something Shiro's mind was conjuring up, right?

This feeling was too real, too familiar for it to be anything other than false. Please. Shiro all but begged. Please be real. He grimaced, tightening his hands against the leather. His vision tilted again, going blurry and colours became astray and disassembled. He breathed out, a crack of lightning pulling Shiro away from the waves of confusion and abstract reality.

He blinked, returning to the couch with a perfect visual. Everything whipped back to normal, so quickly Shiro was left in a daze. Coran was still talking his left ear off.

"And that's why Alfor never lets me near the projection monitors, ahhhaha good times." Coran yipped, wiping away at a nonexistent tear from his laughing streak. He still held a happy face, a false calm before the storm when he abruptly asked: "And any more talk about that obnoxious Kerberos thing?"

Keith visibly jumped, turning towards Coran. "Err, C-Coran! Let's not-" He tried, startled. But Shiro patted at his outstretched arm, lowering it down and Keith offered a confused look.

"It's okay, Keith. Really." Shiro spoke gently, honestly. Darkly. Keith's mouth remained open while he blinked. He listened to the dismal tone and immediately fell back into the position of silent and stoic supporter."

"No, Coran." Shiro lied, anger rising and pushing out of his chest. "There hasn't been anymore talk about that obnoxious Kerberos thing; or about space or Voltron or the Galra or the Lions or the Alteans or anything else absurd like that!" He yelled out, shouting at Coran who only continued to flex his moustache with a perfect façade. He didn't seem bothered at all by Shiro's outburst, only moving closer towards the larger man.

Shiro tried to scoot back, but realized that Keith was sitting right behind him and doing so would mean crushing the poor boy.

So Coran eyed him carefully, getting too close to Shiro's face for comfort.

"Prrroomise?" He begged the question, bringing up his pinkie.

"Promise." Shiro said, his voice weak and breaking, embracing Coran's pinkie finger wit his own. And with that Coran grabbed his wine and left.

Shiro looked around the tense room, no one but himself feeling the wafts of pressure. He was getting worried now, thee self-doubt rising further behind his eyes. What if what everyone was asking, what if all their worries were true?

Maybe all those stories about Voltron and the lions had just been made up; a false memory in Shiro's overly vivid imagination only created by the chemical imbalance he developed during his comatose state from that goddamn lightning strike.

Maybe Shiro was crazy…

He excused himself to the bathroom in a rush, leaving his glass of cranberry juice on the counter before locking the bathroom door. He placed his hands against the counter, trying to breath against the quickened pace of his heart. His chest rose and fell against the pressure that was rising, trying to get him to break, yell, scream, do something.

Shiro grunted, slapping his hand over his heart and stumbling back. His back hit with a harsh slam against the bathtub rim, and he fell onto the cold linoleum tile.

Suddenly there was that pull again, only this time happening at full force. It was that something finally familiar when his eyes blurred through the artificial light.

He could hear the calls, see the images being transmitted into his mind, and he could have cried from this alleviation. Shiro did almost cry from relief.

The pull of energy continued to call out to him, weak but present and ever growing. Shiro blinked quickly while he regained his breathing.

His lion was making contact with him, sending him saw a black and white shot of lightning, the tearing of the wind against the rustling leaves of a single tree on a cliff.

He smiled, understanding what he was being told.

When Keith finally came and knocked on the door, asking Shiro if he was okay, Shiro smiled. He was washing his face with the cold water within the heated air. He shouted back that he'd just be another minute, that he was fine. He looked towards himself, regarding his own reflection, older and more wise than he'd ever seen.

He wasn't crazy.

Or else his metal arm wouldn't be glowing that Galran purple right now.

.

Keith waited outside for Shiro, offering a glass of ice water and a concerned look when he finally emerged. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed and expression guarded.

"You okay?"

Shiro's smiled wavered.

"Fantastic."

He felt it, could see it as thought the events were displayed on two blurred together screens. The alternate realities were still one, but there were different decisions made thus creating the different settings. The two images were still blending though, in Shiro's mind, fuzzy along the edged line and he couldn't quite grasp which he was living. In the other timeline, this scene didn't go as well because Shiro decided to fight it, decided not to run with it tonight. He yelled back at Coran, explained what his theory was: 'There are alternate universes. He was from another one, your Shiro isn't wrong! He's just seeing things from a Universe that wasn't his and he was living with the effects.'

There were rules for these types of scenarios, laws of physics set in place, and both Shiros had, somehow, accidentally broke them. And now Keith was suffering the consequences, in both this universe and his.

His own dimension took the cranberry juice out of Keith's hand, taking a swift chug of the sickly sweet taste.

He felt more confident, happier, more calm now from knowing the truth. He was content, a change in emotion that even Keith could read.

"Shiro?" He asked at the difference of personality.

Shiro shrugged, reaching for Keith's waist to pull him in for a deep kiss.

Their lips lingered together, Keith oblivious and unsure of what was happening. He kept his eyes opened, trying to read the situation when Shiro deepened it, pulling Keith closer.

Keith offered a cute sound, finally closing his eyes and practically melting in Shiro's arms, tugging tightly against his shirt.

Shiro pulled back after feeling satisfied, Keith's hands now stretching out and probably ruining his shirt.

He didn't mind. He looked at Keith, their faces so close that their heated breath could be felt against every skin pore.

"Hey." Shiro said, eyes trying to focus on this reality, this Keith that seemed to force him back into his own body, bring him back into the timeline.

Keith smiled. "Hey."

"We don't want to miss the festivities. The special reason why we're here should be happening soon, right?" Shiro offered, voice haughty and deep. Keith stopped, turned to look at the clock in the kitchen in shock.

"Huh, you're right."

Shiro let go of Keith's waist and instead pulled at his hand, leading them back to the living room where everyone sat, listening to Lance's wild story. They sat back in their original place on the couch, sharing it with Coran and Allura. Pidge and Matt sat on the floor just in front of Shiro's knees. Nyma sat on Rolo's lap, both of them sharing the cushioned chair in the corner.

The only one missing was Hunk.

Lance took center stage of the faux circle, the moonlight fading in through cracks of the patio's door. The light above him was left dim, and the blank 50' TV installed to the rock wall above the fireplace reflected Lance's gesturing form. He swung his wine around, the blush on his skin not from embarrassment.

More likely from being on his fourth glass of wine.

"So anyway," Lance laughed out, stumbling a little. "Here I am, my foot is totally stuck in there, I'm freaking out, the dog's having a seizure and I still got a half a pie left-"

"Uhh, Lance?" Hunk said, coming back into the room. He fell behind Lance, touching his side.

"Ohh, Hunk! You're just in time, I'm getting to the best part where-"

"Hey, Lance, maybe that can wait?" Hunk reached for Lance's cheek kindly, moving his hand gently against the perfectly soft skin.

Shiro saw Pidge move, pulling out a camera that was hidden beneath her lap. Shiro watched, vomit rising in his throat as the two different visions came back in full, Keith no longer in his line of sight to keep him present. At the same time as the proposals commence, Shiro felt the world shift, the unsteady waves of nausea slowly hitting and building up until now. He vision finally and literally split into two, and his head exploded out, having to watch two different conversations. The different events had moved forward at the same time, and the separate conversations took place between the fuzzy lines of the quantum realities. He felt a sturdy hand land on his, and suddenly Shiro's world completely tilted.

X.X.X.

In the opposite reality that Shiro could see, and yet strangely felt not apart of, the other other Shiro was at the center of everyone's undivided attention, sitting on Hunk's and Lance's perfect couch. Everything was still blurry and jittering, like Shiro was inside a static TV, watching things he shouldn't be. The sepia tones coloured over the room, making everything more abnormal, more cumbersome than his own reality. Keith was on his knees with his hands on Shiro's lap, a mirror image of the exact scene earlier that morning.

"Voltron. Kerberos. The Lions. Zarkon. Those words aren't fiction." Shiro stated, arguing his minute point. No one was believing him anyway, but he felt the need to argue it to his death.

"They are actual events that have taken place, changed the course of my own life. Your Shiro wasn't wrong. Whatever he sees during his episodes isn't a craze, it's actually happening. Just not in this universe." He explained cautiously.

Lance stood behind Keith, arms crossed and protective. Lance was still red, but only on his second glass of wine before Shiro's outburst, causing the happy evening to turn towards him.

"Guys, I really think we should bring him to the hospital. We don't want to see this get any worse. What am I saying, this already is worse!"

Keith didn't move. Didn't sigh. Didn't speak. He didn't do much of anything while he took in Shiro's epic tale. Shiro grew concerned.

"Maybe he's actually speaking the truth. I mean, quantum realities isn't actually mathematically impossible, so the concept isn't too hard believe." Pidge pipped up from the kitchen table, her hand holding up her chin with intrigue. Matt stood beside her, arms crossed and worry written on his face.

Lance looked aghast. "Pidge, you can't actually be listening to this!"

X.X.X.

Shiro heard Keith gasp to his side, and Shiro was slammed back into his body from the other overtoned universe. He imagined that the gasp he heard was just from his own one scene in this reality. He looked up, breathing out in pain. He bit back a small moan, trying to render himself conscious. He clutched his hand into someone's pant leg, feeling the soft, loose cloth fiddled underneath his tense palm. They shifted, but never moved away.

In the middle of the circle, Lance tiled his head confused.

"Oh, sure Hunk. Anything for you!" He moved to walk away, for Hunk to take center stage to say that his next round of appetizers were ready or whatever- but he was clearly very wrong.

Hunk reached for Lance's arm, pulling him back. Lance stumbled into Hunk's chest, pulling himself away in embarrassment, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Sorry, Hunk, sorry! I didn't mean-"

That's when Hunk shut him up, placing his whole hand over Lance's mouth. "Lance, I've loved you since you told Iverson to go suck a dick when he said I never should have been accepted into the garrison." Hunk began, voice a little too quick to keep up with.

"Dick deserved it…" Lance muttered under his breath, still confused as Hunk lifted his hand off of his mouth. He still held onto Lance's arm though, needed a beacon of support right now.

Even if the thing he was most scared of was what he was holding onto, in a situation he created… Yeah, this was too intelligent.

Hunk shook his head. "You throw yourself into everything you do, and because of such you never do anything half way. It's always full way and over the top and perfect." Hunk was rubbing Lance's hand, and now Lance's red cheeks increased and this time it wasn't from the alcohol. "You're kind, and sweet, and you worry, and you self-doubt when you totally shouldn't, but you're also so cool, and confident, and beautiful, and loud, and opinionated even when you honestly shouldn't be like that one time with my Mother's china set-"

"Hunk," Pidge warned from the ground, and Hunk stuttered, blushing. "Oh, right. Sorry." He turned back to Lance, regaining his lost composure.

"You first asked me out by yelling it over the school's cafeteria intercom during lunch, in front of all our friends. And so that's why, we're here today to return the favour, in a room full of our friends." Hunk smiled, drifting away from Lance's hands and falling to his knee.

"Lance McClain, You've always been there for me, and I hope to always do the same for you. So I was hoping to make it official… Uhh- Will you marry me?" He brought out the crimson velvet box, opening it to display a shining diamond ring with a platinum band.

Lance remained, for the first time in his life, completely speechless. He looked at the shining, glimmering stone, perched in the hands of the kind man he loved to death.

With hands over his mouth, and tears in his eyes, Lance couldn't say yes. So he just nodded his head slowly, grabbing the box and throwing his arms around Hunk's neck.

Hunk stood up, wrapping his own arms around Lance, inhaling the gentle scent of his cologne. A round of applause erupted through the room, Coran and Rolo simultaneous whistled with their fingers.

Shiro reached for Keith's hand after Keith finished weakly clapping, red rimmed eyes back from that afternoon.

Hunk and Lance remained in their own world, swaying alongside each other as they hugged, not even noticed the scene around them or the flashes of the many cameras.

Allura got up from her spot next to Coran, and immediately started piling in the congratulation presents hidden in the closet that they knew Lance wasn't going to go into that evening.

Hunk breathed out, the heat raising goosebumps on Lance's sensitive skin. "By the way, I also got permission from both your parents before doing this."

Lance let out a loud sob.

X.X.X.

Shiro turned back into the opposing, obscure timeline. He left alone and detached. Keith wasn't at his side. Why wasn't Keith at his side? Where was he?! He tried to call out in his confusion, but found his mouth too dry to speak.

Everything was blurry, painful, all colours disgusting yellows, purples and greens. They mixed together, and not at all how they should or even were before. It just looked like literal abstract chunks of vibrantless and toneless colours, fading over his friends forms.

He ruined the night here. He just had to open his damned mouth. Why'd he open his damned mouth? Couldn't he suffer the pitying looks just a little more?

Couldn't he?

X.X.X.

"Shiro?" Shiro was brought back to the first Keith, the one he'd woken up to, looking at him worriedly. "Shiro, are you okay? I don't understand-" He tried to whisper, trying not to ruin Lance and Hunk's perfect night. When he looked at Keith, the world became clear, the tilting and bold colours lessened. Shiro breathed, trying to refocus.

The steady pain erupted and he fell forward with a small groan, looking downwards to a laughing Pidge and Matt, taking pictures of the scene during his mad confusion.

When the other reality came back to life, Shiro felt his mind tearing itself apart by the unyielding sense that he had done something wrong. He just felt so alone, it was constricting in a way he hadn't experience before.

Shiro didn't like this reality, didn't like the mistake he made.

X.X.X.

"Shiro, no offence, but you're sounding crazy."

"Is it getting worse, Keith?" Someone asked.

"I'm worried…." Someone else started to say, but Shiro centered on Keith. The world turned quiet as he looked towards the boy with so much love and concern in his eyes. He too was staring with his arms wrapped around himself.

"Keith?" He all but uttered.

The man in question gulped and began taking cautious steps towards Shiro.

"I believe you, Shiro." The world snapped back to reality, Lance's voice continuing to mumble away.

"And all this talk about space is just absolute fucking nonsen- wait, what!? Keith!? You can't be- Shiro needs help!"

Keith shook his head, pulling Shiro's hand into his own.

"I believe you," he said openly, purple eyes shining in earnest.

And Shiro began to fall, feeling as though he was heading back to the astral plane but his body continued to float instead, falling, dashing away from his senses. His life wasn't his anymore when he left his body.

He was flung around and met with the silent oblivion that was space, any stars above deciding not to shine today. It was a black void Shiro didn't ever want to discover. But the Black Lion roared in the background, calling out for Shiro to find his way home. It appeared as a small dot, so far away, it must have been light years.

So Shiro blinked weakly, last breaths leaving his soul, happy to hear the valiant roar.

It flew closer, speeding. And suddenly Shiro could see its full form, the outstretched paws, the heavy layered sheeted metal made by the asteroid, the jaw left unhinged as it pressed itself open. Someone was piloting it, the black head of hair and simultaneously stern and stoic expression ever present. Shiro tried to call out for it. Them. He was reaching forward for the cool metal and soft hands.

It was so close. They were so close, so close he could just barely touch it and-

"I believe you." Was all he heard when the reality collapsed in on itself.

X.X.X.

"-I believe you!" Keith choked as he spasmed forward. And the pain in Shiro's world stopped. He fell back into his other… second? Body? with a painful yet dull thud. The world stopped tilting, but that just caused another wave of nausea from the experience alone. Shiro was back, err, kind of, to the first alternate reality, the one he'd spent today in, the one with the brain trauma and the scarred Keith…

No one was paying them attention, too drunk to notice a difference between the two huddled in the corner. But Keith held Shiro's hand, bringing him back to reality, this reality.

"Shiro, what was that? I saw it, is that- is that how- fuck, nevermind, just Shiro, I believe you!" He cried out.

"I believe you, and- and this- this isn't you, not the you I've grown used to. You're different, awake. I just-." He tightened his hold, looking down at his own kneecaps rather than Shiro's eyes. His body trembled at the scene he'd just witnessed, but as usual under Shiro's watchful gaze, he bought himself back together in a matter of seconds.

"I saw it. What you saw. I saw the Lion, I saw… me…" he gulped, looking rather nauseas himself.

However, for just discovering that alternate timelines exist, the kid was handling it well.

"So, there." He shuttered, speaking with tremors in his voice. "If that's what you need me to say, I'll say it. I believe you!"

Shiro grabbed the empty solo cup from Pidge's hands and promptly threw up.

They left quickly after that, congratulating the newly engaged couple who firmly agreed that they wouldn't get married for at least few more years. They seemed worried about Shiro and leaving so abruptly, they hadn't even opened the gifts! but Keith reassured them. Shiro was nearly limp and falling over him, unsteady on his own feet.

Keith held him up, practically carrying the larger man over his shoulder as they left the loft.

"He's okay, he's okay. He just forgot to take his pills today, my bad really. Sorry- it won't happen again Coran, promise. Bye everyone!"

Keith slammed the door shut before someone could even say the word 'sarcophagus'.

Shiro had to laugh at his own sense of dark humour sometimes.

He felt Keith shuffle him into a more sturdy position over his shoulder, dragging Shiro's near limp ass back to the Buick.

Once inside and driving away, Shiro reached for Keith's hand, holding it tightly.

"Thank you. That's all I wanted to hear you say."

Keith bit his lip.

When they arrived back a little after midnight, Keith removed Shiro from his clothes and left him in only his boxers. He shuffled Shiro around in the bed like a ragdoll, trying to make it as fluffy and perfect for Shiro's unrequested needs.

Shiro couldn't fall asleep, mind still spasming from the tilted realities he'd discovered.

He too was playing a dangerous game, one he'd figured he'd probably pay for in the end.

But ignorance could be bliss, could it not?

And right now underneath the warm duvet and against the fluffiest of fluffy pillows, he was as blissed out as ever.

Keith shuffled into the bed a little later, after using the washroom and brushing his teeth. He turned off the light and fell underneath the covers, exhausted and not at all ready for work in the morning. Luckily he only had the one shift in the morning, he thought.

Shiro reached out for him, grabbing his sides and pulling his bareback towards Shiro's own chest. Shiro sighed heftily, smelling the cheap shampoo that Keith loved so much.

Keith gasped, drawing into himself.

"Is that okay? Even if I'm only in my briefs?" He asked, shaken and worried.

Shir tightened his grip, closing his eyes.

"It's perfect." He breathed.

They remained silent, and Shiro could hear Keith blinking, his eyes still wide awake.

He finally offered a sort of self-deprecating laugh, body moving back against Shiro's. "So, you have episodes." He began to explain, breathing out into his pillow. He reached for Shiro's hand against his belly button and grabbed at it, holding Shiro's wrist. "It's where you'll just lie in bed all day, thinking you're somewhere else, doing something completely different. You talk a lot of about Kerberos, the Galra, and Voltron then. There was the first time though, when you were having an episode and apparently could also move. You were screaming, and it sounded like you were being tortured. We had to bring you to the hospital that time, because you almost got hit by a car running into traffic, since some person named Sendak was after you. The garrison wouldn't let me leave when the hospital called me. They thought my training was more important that day, since you were apparently okay and could be released. Things started getting rough then…."

Shiro sighed. "Are there good times?"

"Mhmm." Keith mumbled, turned towards Shiro in the sheets, hand placed gently on Shiro's chest as he remained lying a fair distance away.

"Afterwards," he explains. "When you wake up like you just had a dream. And you tell me all about your adventures. The good ones. You always talk about how we're there with you: Lance, Pidge, Hunk, Allura, Coran and me, in space. We fly magical lions and form Voltron to save the Universe. That's my favourite, because I never see the light in your eyes as much as I do when you talk about Voltron." Keith smiles, looking down at Shiro's chest. He rubs against it, scars and all. A solemn emotion settles into the souring atmosphere.

"You fly Black and I fly Red; it's what we named the kittens after." Keith chuckled.

"I see. Is that why Lance and Hunk named their dogs Blue and Yellow?"

Keith nodded, finally meeting Shiro's eyes in the dark. "The dogs weren't there tonight, though. They're at Lance's parents ranch for the weekend."

Shiro shrugged. "I saw the dog dishes." He tried to joke. Instead, the somber mood drowned out everything else.

Keith tensed and then relaxed, curling in his shoulders. "I know you don't remember getting together, and I know you don't hold the same feelings for me as you usually do, but… is it alright if I kiss you goodnight?"

Shiro grabbed Keith's hand on his chest, rubbing over the calloused thumb.

"Always." Was Shiro's honest answer.

Keith fell forward, placing his lips smoothly against Shiro's. It wasn't anything more, never tried to deepen it. He only wanted to be close to the man he loved.

And Shiro softened a little at that thought, backing away after a few quiet moments passed.

"Ever since I woke up this morning, you've only been worrying about me. You work two jobs to support this house and the medicine, and you are constantly watching for any signs that I'm not doing well. This Shiro is very lucky to have you, Keith. I hope you know that."

Keith promptly blushed and shrugged, remaining quiet and letting Shiro speak.

"But Lance is right. If you don't start relaxing, you're going to kill yourself from the stress.

Keith immediately started to argue. "No, no, no, Shiro. Lance is wrong. I'm completely fine, I promise. Don't worry about me, I'm-"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I'll have you by your ear." Shiro joked, but Keith looked less then enthused.

"What I'm trying to say is, tonight, while I'm here, please relax. You do so much for me….. I just want to do something for you." He admitted, looking down at the earthly tones of the sheets beneath them.

Keith's blush increased ten fold, understanding the implication beneath Shiro's words.

"No, Shiro. I get that you're not from here. We don't have the same…" he stumbled over his wording, his eyes growing increasingly concerned and embarrassed as he tried to make a gesture with his hands.

"Bond…. As you do with your Keith. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Shiro placed his human hand on Keith's cheek, continuing to rub softly at the pale skin.

"I want to, Keith. I always have."

"It shouldn't be with me then. It should be with your Keith."

Shiro had to let out a soft laugh.

"But it is you, in a way. You're the same Keith, who just made one different choice that lead to a different life. This is the timeline where Kerberos never happened, that's where it all changed. You still have the same history, the same feelings, the same skill sets and the same emotions-"

"Not the same memories though."

"That's only because you're older. I think I was supposed to see that eventually. That you and I work well together, more than what I've been allowing back in Space."

Keith let his eyebrows furrow together, bewildered. "You're under a whole different set of problems, though. If everything that's happened during your episodes are true…" Keith said, pulling back from Shiro's hand and laid out on his back. Shiro made way to join him after a few moments of confused silence, staring at the plastered ceiling.

They continued side-by-side together, questions upon questions needing to be answered. Shiro turned his chin and stared at the far wall with the blank TV and lopsided books. For some reason, Shiro never knew what happened, his body just moving on instinct, but he found himself reaching out his hand to place it on top of Keith's.

In a movement that was too precise to never have been done before, Keith opened his palmed and grabbed for Shiro's oncoming hand before it even touched him, pulling it into his own.

"Where do you think my Shiro is now?" Keith finally questioned, which was an honest surprise. It seemed like it was always Shiro asking the questions as of late.

Shiro winced, the knot tightening in his stomach as he lied. "I don't know. Maybe he's still here and I'm just sharing his mind for the time being. Maybe he's in my body back in Space. Who knows."

"Do you think you'll stay here for a while? Maybe you'll be sent back during his next episode. That kind of makes sense…" Keith thought out loud.

"All I know is that I need to figure it out soon. I need to get back to my teammates."

The 'back to my Keith,' went unsaid.

Keith nodded, expression turning sour and sad.

"Why do you believe me?" Shiro simply asked.

Keith let out a harsh laugh and squeezed Shiro's hand. "Other than the fact that I saw the other dimensions and the Lion? Who is very intimidating, by the way-"

Shiro chuckled, deciding it was best not to tell him that his Keith was the one piloting Black while Shiro was temporarily unavailable. But then again, this Keith had probably seen that too.

"But if you hadn't seen it and I had told you, would you have believed me?"

Keith sighed, shaking his head. "I want to say probably not, because you're talking about things you only admit during an episode or a hallucination. But honestly? I haven't seen you this lucid in years, Shiro. I haven't seen that spark in your eyes since before the tumour. You're the Shiro I first fell in love with, and I guess that's why I believe you, even if you had just told me. I think- it's stupid and naïve, but I like to think you came back to me, even if it's only for a little bit."

Shiro nodded in understanding. "I think the universes knew that you needed this."

Keith squeezed his hand in response. "And that you needed a break. And that my Shiro needed confirmation that he wasn't only speaking about fictitous nonsense." He whispered, words small and frail.

The room went quiet as they looked at each other. Keith was open in a way Shiro had never seen, in this reality or the next. It was as beautiful as it was strange, but Shiro didn't pull himself away from the orbit that was Keith.

It was Shiro who made the first move, inching towards Keith slowly so that he could move away if he decided against it.

He never did.

Their lips touched again, this time more sparks and flames and less confusion flew around. The untamable knot in Shiro's stomach grew, wishing he could have this more often, enjoying the feel of Keith's tongue against his own, enjoying the little gasps and moans he let out for only Shiro to hear. Why hadn't Shiro seen this before? Had these feelings always been there?

Shiro knew deep down that they always had been, and he was only just understanding their meaning now.

They removed their clothes when it became too hot, Shiro ungraceful from years without practice. But Keith was there through it all, forever and always Shiro's right hand man and silent rock of support. He successfully pulled Shiro out of the tight and unyielding pants, moving back to kissing him underneath his chin and against his neck.

Shiro shuttered, the fluttering movements of chapped lips was delicate and light like wisps of swaying grass against his heated skin. Shiro laid on top of the younger boy, kissed him further, deeper, touching every inch of bare skin he could ever memorize.

It seemed funny to him that this Keith also shared the large scar on his shoulder that his Keith obtained during the Mamora trials. Shiro briefly wondered how that little fact had escaped him earlier that morning.

When he kissed its webbed tissue, Keith gasped and arched his back, sensitive to the touch. Shiro wanted to burn this into his memory forever.

He hoped he wouldn't lose these moments when he returned.

They didn't go further than that that night.

Later on, when Keith's touch starved nature had been fulfilled, he closed his eyes with the happiest sigh. He hadn't felt so boneless and perfect in a long time, needing the quiet moments to relax before the struggles of the next day were to continue. That night, Shiro made it about him for once and he had been happy to accommodate Shiro's raw request.

While he slept blissfully on, a peaceful expression etched on his face, Shiro got up from the bed and dressed. It had been hard finding the strewn clothes in the quiet of the night, but Shiro made do. He then tucked in the raven-haired boy from the loosened blankets. The poor kid looked cold.

Before he left the room, he looked at Keith with nothing but pain in his eyes. But he felt it coming, they were coming. Black was near, the bond and sound increasing, a pull that started in the middle of his chest expanding outward to a near pain. It left him feeling dull and nauseous, stumbling through the room. But as he thought about it, he didn't know if it was from the pull of the Black Lion calling out for its lost Paladin, or the guilt Shiro felt.

He would still leave this Keith behind. Shiro was to go back to Space, to his reality where he would pilot a magical black lion to save the universe. He would go back to his world, with his Keith.

But, that meant leaving this one. They were one and the same, just different situations. Both were so supportive, and loyal, and intuitive, and intelligent.

And beautiful, Shiro thought, even through the harsh realities they both had to suffer.

But this Keith was destined to be alone from here on out. He was made for a life where he would watch the other Shiro die an untimely and painfully long death. A death that Shiro knew was literally just around the corner, much closer than this Keith would like to imagine. He would end up alone, yet again abandoned by the people he loved. He was to see the step by step the deterioration of a person's mind. It seemed so cruel to Shiro.

He was so young.

Shiro wasn't appalled at Lance for suggesting Keith to get out now, understood the worry he had over his friend. Shiro wanted him to avoid that pain as well. But leaving someone behind wasn't Keith; he'd been in that position too many times before to be anything but loyal to someone who actually cared. Keith would stick it out to the end even if it killed him. Which it would.

And in some other reality, Shiro sighed, he was probably going through the exact situation but with Keith losing his mind. Shiro was probably watching his lover leave him slowly day in and day out. In that reality, it was Keith dying and Shiro being begged to leave for his own sanity. And Shiro knew that one wouldn't leave Keith behind either. They would both die alone, having watched the one person who made their life whole leave them behind early to an illness that was unstoppable.

This Shiro didn't have to deal with that. He was fairly healthy, his Keith was fairly healthy. They knew this from the cryopod updates and frequent health tests Allura and Pidge made them do. He wouldn't have to go through the slow pain and torture. That wasn't their destiny.

Shiro walked out of that townhouse door towards for what he knew would be his last time, getting into the old car and speeding off towards the center of the energy's pull, its call. Straight in the middle of the storm.

Looking back, Shiro finally realized how lucky he was.

Shiro parked as close as he could. He would have taken it off road and through the high mountains to get closer, but he knew Keith needed this car. It was nearly his only source of transportation, and he'd used most of his savings on it.

Shiro couldn't disregard those facts and possibly end up with the old shitty thing in a ditch somewhere.

He couldn't do that to Keith.

He slammed the door, but the noise could barely be heard as the wind grabbed at his white piece of hair, tried to push his body away from the cliff.

He was in the middle of the storm, lightning seen striking miles away through the onslaught of hardened rain that dampened his vision. He could barely see a few feet in front of him. Tossing away his concern, Shiro forced himself to move up the path. He needed to get to the center of the pull. He climb over the fallen trees, slipped on the watered down ground. He used the last pieces of memory that the other Shiro had available, memorizing his way through this windy and wretched path.

Finally after what felt like hours, he made it to the rock face and climbed. It was his Galran hand that kept him the most steady, clinging to the wet and loosened rocks when he almost fell. He took it slow, Galran hand impaled into the rocks while he lifted the other to get a good grip, trying to climb. It was the only way to the top.

He didn't know how he did it, but eventually he made it to the mountains peak. It was barren and dull, no green to shade the ground except for the lone and absurdly shaped tree with only a few trembling leaves that were pulled by the vicious storm. He looked out at the town miles below, lights still spread out over the solid and perfectly flat landscape.

In the dark, it was strangely reminiscent to the stars scattered like dust in Space, displaying a certain kind of life at every corner.

He breathed in, hoping his idea, his intuition, the pull of the energy wasn't inane. He wouldn't die here, would he? Leave this realm and his forever?

He was at the place that started it all for the other Shiro. Taking the picture, falling from the cliff, getting the prosethetic arm, the allergy to the pills, doctors reading the scan about an increasing tumour.

Shiro felt ill. At the call of the Black Lion, Shiro knew what was about to happen. He knew that he was leaving this body behind without a soul to takes his place.

The other Shiro passed away the night he fought Zarkon, landing in what remained of his body before the other left completely. It was a fluke, a freak coincidence that one of the many Shiros just happened to die when he needed it to happen.

And like Shiro said, he honestly believed that the universe knew this Keith needed that one last day. It was just one last day of solid comprehension and love he hadn't felt in so long to make up for the rest, as though it was an apology. The universe gave that to him and Shiro just hoped he could eventually move on.

But when he thought about it, while standing on that cliff beneath the rain and lightning- If it hadn't been for that first night, the other Shiro would have figured it out much later. To the point where his pills would have been inaffective, his life would no longer be completely his own. The days of lucidity would no longer palpable.

His life would have been much, much shorter than what he was given. He would died so much sooner.

In another reality, Shiro is sure that's exactly what happened.

And for some reason, Shiro was thankful for it in this universe. It gave the two lovers just a bit more time. A tragedy left marks, but it also gave a little beacon of light when they both needed it to occur.

The storm grew closer through the wavering energy. The clear freedom of the wind, the air waning against his face, the rain smacking his scar: Shiro felt wholeheartedly free for the first time since his captivity. It was amazing to this relieved and fulfilled, never actually noticing how pent up he was until the moment passed.

When he looked towards the town, the oncoming grey and purple mammatus clouds lingering above, the world went quiet.

The lightning struck as it had once before and Shiro felt himself tumble.

He fell down and down, falling past the rock's face and ground. The world became an austere tunnel, bright white and flashing lights keeping Shiro conscious. It looked like Coran's wormhole generator lighting up with power, peering at him as he continued his fall.

When Shiro looked straight into the center of the quickly passing lights, he saw flashes of memories, skips of events from every one of his galaxies, his universes.

It seemed like a simple concept that Keith was almost always main character.

Sure he saw his parents, his friends, different schools and professions Shiro had experienced. But mostly, he saw all the different first kisses he and Keith shared; the different first fights, first dates, first times with each other.

Every journey and story was different and distinct decisions were individually made to change their progression of time; but in most of them they acted like one, understanding the other and seeing things most others wouldn't see. They orbited around each other, a gravity's pull forcing them together like planets and moons. Every memory showed how there had been always a familiarity between them; an intimacy which could only be created through time.

Each story was unique and beautiful, but Shiro felt bias: it was the story he was going back to, the one where he didn't yet know the ending that remained to be his favourite.

Shiro blinked, and the lights and universes faded as black overtook.

When he woke from the bitter cold of a cryopod, he wasn't even surprised that Keith was the first thing he could see.


End file.
